Well, I’m here. ‘Here’ being where I’ve intended to be ever since 2010 or earlier: staying at the USFWS bunkhouse in Homer, Alaska, before leaving for a full summer working for Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge. Granted, I’d been hoping to head off to the Aleutians, but returning to St. George after 5 years away is already shaping up to be rewarding. I’ve been told there’s fresh reindeer meat waiting in our freezer, and the herd needs to be culled. If anyone wants to visit and go reindeer hunting (likely for free), you know where to come!

As an aside, ride-hopping my way from Fairbanks to Homer was a good way to recognize the joy of leaving. So many friends and people I meet through travel tend to tell me I’m fortunate to live such a varied life of adventure. I’m starting to think that the difference between most people and me isn’t my sense of adventure or wanderlust but rather my ability to push myself out the door. Trying to plan and pack for the unknown adventure is by no means easy and usually means saying bye to the creature comforts and friends of familiarity. Preparing to leave is always somewhat stressful and makes me question my actions. But in the end, I sit back on that plane or car seat, look out the window as my base disappears from view, and sigh with satisfaction as I recognize there’s no turning back; I either have what I need or I don’t, and I’ll survive either way. I don’t necessarily know what’s ahead, which is simultaneously exciting and frightening.

This time Scott (one couch provider in Fairbanks) drove me to Anchorage, where I managed to briefly visit last year’s Tutakoke crew (+ my replacement since I’m not returning) before being picked up by a new Fairbanks friend who will be working on St. Paul this summer. Having a friend in Seward, Mike (my chauffeur) diverted us there for the weekend to enjoy the mountains and sunshine.

Come Sunday evening we were on the journey’s home stretch to Homer. Once we located the bunkhouse, we met most of the other field technicians who will be heading out to various other camps in the Aleutians, Pribilofs, and SE Alaska. Of the 12 techs hired this year, 9 of us have worked for AK Maritime in the past. 6 of them worked for the refuge last year, meaning their time in the bunkhouse now is a little reunion.

As I met the others I was surprised to hear one say, “Hey, I recognize you.” Since I only knew Sarah from our brief visit in Hawaii, I didn’t know why I’d be a familiar face. Only when asked if I’d worked for the refuge before was the connection made. Being on St. George in 2010 for BSIERP – the Bering Sea Integrated Ecosystem Research Project – made me famous, as my face and my photos are now scattered throughout the protocol binders. I’m glad I’ve been helping around here for the past few years without even knowing it!

Over the last week+ we’ve been busy with:

• • paperwork (AKA making sure we get paid)
  • reviewing protocols (AKA learning what we’re actually doing while we sit in the fog and stare at seabirds)
  • discussing island life
  • picking up last minute work and personal gear (AKA how much alcohol do we need [kidding, mom!] really: do I have enough wool socks?)
  • training (first aid, database, ATV, etc.)
  • The all-important initial mega grocery trip (AKA ‘grab what you need to keep you happy for the next few months’ + who knows how well the St. George store will actually be stocked this year, so buy the staple supplies now)

    

• The all-important shipping ahead of food and some gear (AKA your gear may not make it on your plane, so pack your carry-on with undies, warm gear, and rain gear AND send food + some gear separately)

In addition to working, we’ve had some time to socialize at the bunkhouse and around town. This past weekend was the Kachemak Bay Shorebird Festival, which provided a great opportunity to smile at many of the birds I counted in California all winter: lesser sandhill cranes, northern pintail, northern shovelers, green winged teal, dunlin, western sandpipers, least sandpipers, dowitcher, Wilson’s snipe, etc. A bird calling competition at Homer Brewing Company also gave a nice excuse to check out the local beer.

Crews going to the Pribilofs have a less hectic period here in Homer than the camps that get dropped off by the Tiglax (refuge’s ship) because the Bering Sea Unit biologist comes out to our camps and can impart wisdom in the field. There are no complaints here! Homer’s not a bad spit — ahem, spot.